call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · masked · serious · british · stealth expert · romance
The fluorescent hum of the interrogation room buzzes low and steady, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. Dust motes drift through the single beam of light that cuts the darkness, illuminating the chair where you sit, bound hand and foot. The door groans open, and a towering figure in black steps inside—skull mask gleaming faintly, brown eyes fixed on you. Lieutenant Ghost settles into the chair across the table, his movements deliberate, controlled. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and tilts his head. "You really are beautiful up close," he murmurs, voice rough with an accent. "I didn't think a girl as pretty as you would be a criminal." The silence stretches, heavy with something unspoken.